the learning curve
by cassino
Summary: where daphne tries to make dessert, hermione brings flowers and it ends up being a perfect valentine's day :: daphne x hermione, fluff fluff and more fluff.


**a/n: **this story is so sweet this is giving me a toothache, ugh. but i love it anyway :3 (also i think i'm lowkey obsessed with this pairing, idk why. too bad there aren't many fics on them :/)

**forum: **hogwarts—challenges and assignments

**house: **ravenclaw

**prompts:  
**_assignment #3_ — muggle music, task #1 ("do you love me" by the contours: write about someone learning a new skill to impress their romantic interest)  
_insane house challenge_ — 126. attempting to cook

* * *

_**the learning curve**_

_words: 880_

* * *

When Daphne had picked up the book from the store last month, she'd honestly thought it'd be easy.

The cookbook was fairly positive that even the most unskilled moron could bake. Daphne begged to differ.

She felt close to tears as she stood in the kitchen of the little apartment, her golden hair escaping the loose bun she'd piled it into. Everything had been going fine. The pastry had come out perfectly and the filling was good too. But she'd forgot to set the timer for the oven and had dozed off on the couch and the tart had come out a charred, syrupy mess.

So much for the perfect strawberry tart.

Daphne poked at the remains of the tart, trying to see whether she could salvage a few pieces before Hermione came home. Oh, it wasn't _too _burnt at the bottom—perhaps she'd serve the chunks with ice cream and call it a parfait (or whatever, she didn't really feel like thinking of creative desserts at the moment). It would _have _to do.

She'd thought surprising her girlfriend by baking her favourite tart would make the perfect Valentine's Day.

But _this _was just a disaster.

Daphne scraped out whatever she could salvage from the baking tray and Vanished the rest, holding the tears at bay. She'd spent _weeks _slaving in the kitchen, trying to make sense of the Muggle cooking contraptions, and making small batches of bland, doughy cookies and shortbread to practice. Sure, she wasn't all that great, but she'd improved and Daphne had been positive that the strawberry tart would turn out perfectly.

Suddenly exhausted, she padded over to the living room and flopped onto the cushions. Nimue, Hermione's little kitten jumped onto Daphne's lap and purred, sensing her distress. She stroked her fur absently, staring into empty space.

And that was how Hermione found her, ten minutes later, when she came home from work. She frowned as she let herself in and took off her coat, sniffing a bit—was that something… burning? Her eyes fell on Daphne and her frown deepened.

"Daph? Is everything alright?" She sat down next to her girlfriend, slowly snaking an arm around her shoulder.

Daphne took one look at Hermione's concerned expression and burst into great, ugly sobs. Hermione, alarmed, put her arms around the sobbing woman, whispering in her ear and pleading her to calm down.

"I-I t-tried to l-learn b-baking because y-you like s-strawberry tart so much, but I d-didn't set the timer and it all g-got _burnt!_" Daphne wailed, burying her face in Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione felt bemused and touched at the same time. She'd never expected Daphne to try her hand at baking just to make her favourite dessert—her girlfriend had never been the type to get her hands dirty. She loved the fact that Daphne had taken the trouble to learn—just for her. Sure, it hadn't turned out too well, but it was the thought that counted and her heart swelled with love for the blonde who was currently sobbing hysterically, dampening her shirt.

"Hey, it's okay, Daph. It got burnt, that's totally okay—Merlin knows how _my _first batch of cookies turned out. You _tried _and that's what matters," Hermione told her gently, stroking her hair.

"But I ruined _everything! _I ruined your V-Valentine's gift," Daphne moaned, a little pathetically. She was feeling particularly sorry for herself at that moment.

"No, you didn't ruin _anything,_" Hermione told her firmly. "The gift is still perfect because _you _made it for _me. _I love that you made the effort to learn something completely new just for my sake—to be honest, that's better than any other gift you could give me. Burnt or not, I'll still love whatever you made for me, okay?"

Daphne nodded, sniffled a bit and sat up. She felt a blush creeping up her neck, the embarrassment of having a complete meltdown catching up with her. Hermione smiled, a little relieved that her girlfriend's tears had stopped and rummaged around in the cavernous space of her beaded bag. "Here, this is for you. Happy Valentine's Day, Daph." She offered Daphne a lovely bouquet of roses, the petals soft and white.

Daphne buried her nose in the blossoms and inhaled, her mood instantly brightened by the sweet smell. Grinning shyly, she engulfed her lover in a grateful hug, pulling back a little to place a kiss on her lips. "Happy Valentine's Day," she whispered as she rested her forehead against Hermione's.

"Let's order some Chinese, shall we?" Hermione said, pulling away and dialling the restaurant's number on the house phone as she spoke. She knew Daphne would agree to Chinese—her girlfriend had an unhealthy obsession with Muggle takeout. Daphne beamed and nodded, listening to Hermione's soothing voice as she placed their regular order—moo shu pork and lemon chicken.

And when Daphne served the burnt remains of the strawberry tart with the steaming food, Hermione only scrunched her nose as little, bravely swallowing the bits of charred pastry. Daphne beamed with delight when Hermione said that it was _quite _good, despite the burnt taste taking the tang off the strawberry.

(Perhaps Hermione wasn't being completely honest, because she discreetly _Evanesco'd_ the rest of her dessert when Daphne wasn't looking… but she didn't need to know _that, _did she?)


End file.
